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cxtori · 1 month ago

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word count: 5,258

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tori’s note: umm… I may have gone overboard with this… sorry. But also NOT sorry because I had fun writing it lol. I would also like to apologize in advance for the pain this is going to cause 🫂

“War is no place for a child”.

You hear those words muttered every so often as you walk by the soldiers in the barracks.

A battlefield full of violence and evil, blood and injuries. It was no sight for someone so young, someone who barely understood the concept of life and death. But, despite that bit of common sense, the greed of others is what landed you and your older sister here.

You and Akiko had abilities that most would consider beautiful gifts. That to heal the injuries of others without much effort. But your sister would often call it a curse, though you didn’t understand why.

You didn’t know what was going on, the conflict that was happening just several hundred yards away from your bed. The only thing you were ever told was that there were people who were hurt, and you had to help them. Afterall, how do you explain the complex nature of war to a mere 7 year old?

Either way, for your young mind, that was all the explanation needed. It made you feel wanted, important, even if it was for evil reasons you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around.

You never saw the worst of it. Akiko requested that you remain in the barracks, where soldiers were capable of coming to you. She didn’t want you to have to see the things she did while in the infirmary. If she could keep you away from it, she would.

Your ability wasn’t as strong as your sister’s. You could heal only “minor” wounds. Severe cuts, fractured bones, such as that. Akiko, however, had the ability to “bring people from the verge of death”. You didn’t quite understand how impressive that was, you just knew that the adults found it very important. Especially Mori.

He was the reason you were here. You thought he was a kind man at first. He made you feel special, the way he had shown interest in you and your sister’s abilities. But then he took you out here where it was dark and cold, lonely and sad.

You’ve noticed that this darkness has begun to rub off on your sister. She used to be so happy and giggly. But now you’re lucky to get a small smile from her.

Every time a soldier comes to see you, you hope it’s the last one. That you’ll never have to see another injured person again. That you and your sister will be able to go home. But as the months pass and nothing changes, the bright hope you had slowly begins to diminish into a sliver.

These days, you hardly ever see Akiko, her own responsibilities keeping her in the infirmary while you’re left on the other side of the army camp. The only thing that keeps you going is the friendship you’ve started to form with one of the soldiers.

Shunzen.

You smiled the first time you heard his name. Shunzen. Spring cicada. You loved cicadas. Their funny, beady eyes, their intricate wings, the beautiful buzzing noise they would make. They reminded you of home, safe and warm. Shunzen made you feel that way too. You thought the name was very fitting.

He always took the time to ask you how you were. The other soldiers didn’t ask that. They just came to see you, get their wounds healed, and up and leave the moment they were able. But Shunzen always stayed, if only for a few minutes. You liked that.

Sometimes, he would let you know that your sister was doing okay, having seen her only a day, sometimes mere hours before you. He did his best to keep the two of you informed on the other, knowing that you didn’t see each other very much anymore.

Sometimes, during his longer stays, he would tell you about his life back home. About his job and friends and school. It made you feel comforted, hearing about the world outside of these cold metal walls.

“My little brother back home is about your age,” Shunzen says softly. You perk up at this. Little brother? He hasn’t mentioned him before.

“You have a brother?” You ask excitedly. A little brother, just like you’re a little sister! Shunzen laughs and nods.

“I do. He’ll be turning 7 in just a few weeks. He’s got big golden eyes and dark hair. And he’s stubborn. Just. Like. You,” he says, punctuating his last few words with some gentle pokes at your belly, making you laugh.

“Haha he sounds funny,” you say.

“He is funny,” he says. There’s a look of sadness in his eyes, but it’s only there for a moment before they light up once more. “When this is all over, I’ll take you home. You can meet him.”

“Really?!” Shunzen nods, confirming that he meant his words.

“You two would get along great,” he says with a soft smile.

“But, Akiko has to come too, okay?” You add frantically, not wanting to forget your sister.

“Of course. I promise.”

Before you can say another word, your friend is being called for, dragged once more out onto the battlefield. Usually you felt sad when he had to leave, but right now, you feel happy, and a little more hopeful than you did before.

The weeks continue to go by, all blurring together into a meaningless stretch of misery. You’ve noticed that you’ve seen Akiko and Shunzen much less recently. In fact, you haven’t seen many soldiers at all. You once believed that would be a source of relief, but for some reason, it filled you with more dread.

You were happy when you heard that Shunzen was able to go home for a short time. He didn’t miss his little brother’s birthday as he feared he would. But it made you sad that you weren’t able to go with him. But he would reassure you, saying that once the war was over, that you and your sister would both be welcome to visit him. It gave you something to look forward to, to strive for.

You saw Shunzen much less, but he would often stay with you for longer periods of time now, talking about his visit with his family or reading a few poems from his book.

You sat beside him, resting against his arm as he read. He moves away for a moment to remove his jacket in favor of the white t-shirt underneath.

“What’s that around your neck?” You ask, noticing the large, flat piece of metal dangling from a chain and resting against his chest. He picks it up, lifting it over his head and gathering the necklace into his palm.

“It’s my dog tag,” he says, holding out his hand to show you. You look closer to see his name engraved into it in fine characters.

“A dog tag… why does it say your name?” You ask innocently. Shunzen pauses.

“…It’s just a fancy necklace they give the soldiers,” he says, not looking you in the eyes. He flips over the piece, showing you the other side.

There are several marks scratched into it, but they look different from the other side. They’re shallow and jagged, not as smooth and refined as the other side. You study the lines but you can’t make sense of it.

“Is it a secret code or something?” You ask.

“No,” Shunzen laughs. “See each of the individual lines?” He points to the thin, jagged marks cut into the metal. You nod. “Each of these lines represents a time you and your sister helped me. Every time either of you healed me, I made a scratch.”

Your eyes widen as they trail down the piece of metal. There were dozens of lines. Had you and Akiko really healed him that many times?

“It’s because of you two that I was able to see my little brother again,” he says softly. Your heart twists and you smile brightly. It was because of you that he was able to go home, to see the family that he talked about so much. You look back down at the metal in his hand.

“I want a dog tag,” you mutter quietly, more to yourself than to him. Shunzen looks at you, those words leaving the mouth of a child sending an unpleasant chill down his spine.

He turns from you, reaching for his jacket. He picks it up and wraps his hands around the buttons, the metal clasps melting into his hands, obeying his mental commands.

You watch in interest as he holds the practically liquified metal in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it. His eyes close in concentration and you keep quiet as you watch.

After a short moment, he opens his hand to reveal a dog tag, chain and all, similar to his but much smaller. You beam from ear to ear. He hands it to you, but you’re almost afraid to touch it. Shunzen laughs lightly and takes it between his fingers before carefully placing it over your head, the tag dangling just over your chest.

You look down at it and notice another detail: your initials are printed over the front. You look up at Shunzen who is watching you happily. You throw your arms around him, tackling him in a sweet hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

It’s been almost 3 weeks since you saw Shunzen last. It’s the longest stretch you’ve gone since he’d left to visit his family. And before that, you’re not sure you remember him being gone for so long.

The number of soldiers you see daily has dwindled. You’ve seen Akiko three times in the past few weeks, and each time she was far too tired to hold any conversation with you, passing out before she even got to say hello.

Everything feels tense. It’s like the air itself was becoming harder to breathe. You had noticed that even Mori, who was usually uncaring and nonchalant, was much more uptight as of late. You wish you understood why. You wish someone would tell you. Just how bad was this war that was keeping you all here? How much longer would you all be expected to suffer?

You lean against your sister’s arm who is sitting beside you on your bed. It’s one of the rare times she’s been given a break. And an even rarer occurrence is that she didn’t fall asleep the moment she sat down.

You run your fingers over the smooth, golden metal of the hair clip Shunzen made for her. A beautiful, large winged butterfly, reminiscent of those that appeared when she used her ability.

“It’s really pretty,” you say. Akiko hums in agreement before taking it from you gently and clipping it back in her hair. It suited her perfectly, the way the shiny gold contrasted against her dark hair.

“Your necklace is pretty too,” Akiko says, looking to the flat, reflective pendant around your neck. Your hand instinctually raises to your chest, your fingers wrapping gently around the cool metal, and you smile.

You rest your head against your sister’s shoulder once more, your eyes heavy. Things feel calm, almost normal for a moment and you practically forget where you are. Until you hear the startling clang of a door down the hall slamming shut, snapping you back to your dreary reality.

A shuddered sigh leaves Akiko’s lips and her tensed muscles soon relax again. She wraps her arms tightly around you and you hug her back, reveling in the warmth of your sister.

“I’m so tired, Akiko,” you whisper. “I want to go home.”

“I know, I do too,” she says, her hands rubbing your arms encouragingly. “We just have to finish things here. And then we’ll go home. And we’ll visit Shunzen and his family, like he said. It’ll be okay, just a little longer.”

And you believe her. Your eyes flit closed and you feel like you may actually get some good rest. But then the door flies open, revealing Mori behind it, and your moment of peace is quickly replaced by anxiety.

“Akiko, You’re needed in the infirmary,” the older man says coldly. You’ve begun to notice a feeling of unease anytime Mori is around you, like his very presence makes your body revolt.

“But, I just returned from there. Can’t I-“

“We don’t have time for relaxation,” Mori snaps, and the edge in his voice makes you curl closer to your sister.

You can tell he’s tired. The circles beneath his eyes have only darkened in the previous days, and the kind, friendly smile he frequently wore when you first arrived has slowly disappeared. Honestly, every aspect of his friendliness has vanished. It only added to your further growing fear of him.

“Our soldiers require a care that only you can provide. Now come along.” He leaves the room without another word, his abruptness leaving no room for argument.

Akiko’s breath comes out in a heavy shudder, and you feel her shake beneath your hands. She moves to stand, tugging her arm gently away from you.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” She says, doing her best to put on an encouraging smile for you. And with that, she’s gone, leaving you once again alone in the cold, musty barracks.

You fold your legs to your chest as you wrap your arms around them, pressing your face to your knees.

You miss Akiko. You miss Shunzen. You miss home, even if it was just you and your sister. You just want to leave, leave and never come back.

Little did you know how soon your wish would come true.

It’s been days since you saw Akiko last. Almost 2 months since you saw Shunzen. There were very few soldiers that came by now. You were told that, if they returned to the base, they were sent directly to Akiko. Very rarely now did they have injuries minor enough for you to handle.

You were laying on your bed, eyes squeezed shut as your fingers traced over the dog tag around your neck, trying to block out the loud rumbles and shakes that seem to have gotten louder over the last couple days.

You feel like you’re about to miraculously fall asleep when you hear a loud clang followed by an ear piercing scream. A scream you recognize.

It was Akiko.

You shot straight up in the bed, your heart rate rising. What was that? Was it a dream? The long silence that follows almost convinces you it was in your head. But then you hear several pairs of feet running down the hall. They shouldn’t be down here, not unless they were coming to see you. And the footsteps ran right past your closed door.

You jump for the door, heaving it open. You follow the sound of frantic, muffled voices. Your heart crawls into your throat and your stomach knots. Something isn’t right. Was that Akiko screaming?

Your slow walk shifts into a run as the voices grow louder, anger and fear heavy in the air. You come to a hatch in the floor where several soldiers are standing below. You almost fall down the stairs with how quickly you take them, the rusted hand bar biting into your palm.

You reach the bottom where your sister is sitting on her knees with her head in her hands. Your eyes drift to the dark mass laying crumpled in the floor, a rope swinging from the ceiling above it. The men stand around motionless, their speaking coming to a halt as soon as you enter the room, aside from a few, hushed words.

“She shouldn’t be here. Neither of them should be.”

“This is so fucked up.”

“This is war, kids shouldn’t be here.”

“Akiko?” You call as you walk to your sister. But she doesn’t respond, doesn’t even give you the slightest hint of acknowledgment. You step closer, the knot in your stomach tightening. You try to keep your eyes on your sister, but your curiosity wins over as your gaze drifts back to the form on the floor. Your heart drops into your stomach.

“Shunzen?” You say, recognizing the face of your friend laying on the floor.

At this, Akiko’s head snaps over to look at you, her eyes wild. She launches herself at you, pulling your face to her chest in an attempt to block your vision. But it was pointless.

Confusion begins to mix with your fear. Why was Shunzen here? Why wasn’t anyone helping him? You rip away from your sister’s arms, shoving her back harshly as you hop around her. If they weren’t going to help him then you would.

“Shunzen!” You drop to your knees beside him, your hands resting on his back to shake him. But he doesn’t answer. You use your ability, your hands glowing as your power seeps into him, though it changes nothing. Your sister sits beside you, a look you don’t recognize on her face.

“Akiko, help him!” You cry. Akiko shakes her head, the movement barely noticeable. “Please!”

Akiko winces at the crack in your voice, and she lays her hands down beside your own. Bright, glowing butterflies fill the air as she tries to revive him. Unknown to you, she’d already tried several times.

Upon realizing that Shunzen was still not moving, you begin to shake him again.

“Shunzen, wake up! Don’t leave us, please,” you cry pitifully. Akiko pries your hands away before wrapping her arms around you in a nearly suffocating grasp.

“You said you would take us home. You promised!” Akiko’s arms wrap impossibly tighter around you. You eventually give up and turn to her, your tears soaking into the front of her dress.

“He promised.”

The few days following were a blur. All you remember are the tears, the twisted pain in your heart, and the blank, emotionless gaze your sister began to develop.

Mori had grown colder toward you and Akiko. He still smiled often, but it was no longer the warm, friendly grin he wore when you first arrived. It was tight, emotionless, and didn’t do anything to cover the annoyance written all over his face.

He was upset. You knew he was. You and your sister’s productivity had dropped, and as punishment, he did his best to keep you separated. It didn’t have the effect he’d hoped and it only worsened your conditions.

Akiko continued to do her job, but it was like she was on autopilot. She hardly spoke a word now, to Mori and even you.

You, on the other hand, were struggling.

You were still only capable of healing minor injuries, and they used to bring such soldiers to you, in the barracks. But now, Mori requested that you come to the infirmary. Right where Akiko had previously refused to allow you.

But now she wasn’t mentally strong enough to say no.

You went a few times and you slowly began to understand why Akiko was so adamant about you staying away.

The smell of blood hung thickly in the air and the constant groaning of pain would ring in your ears even hours after leaving the infirmary. Seeing soldiers injured beyond what you could repair was sad and sickening. It gave you feelings you didn’t have words for.

Between Shunzen’s death, not seeing Akiko, and being forced to visit the infirmary, it only took a few days before you shut down.

You had been given only a half-day's break, and you spent the entire time wrapped in your blanket on your bed with your hand grasping your dog tag so tightly it cut into your palm.

The pain in your heart quickly grew into anger and hatred. All of it aimed at Mori. He was the reason you were here. Why you and your sister were suffering.

You hear the metal door squeak open and you don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Y/n, sweetheart, we need you in the infirmary.”

“I’m not going,” you say, still not bothering to lift your head. Mori steps closer to you, his presence suffocating, “I’m never using my ability again.”

“You’ll have to eventually.” He spoke with such coldness, not a trace of emotion in his voice. You grit your teeth and turn your head to look at him. His expression falters for half a second, taken aback by the look in your eyes as you stare at him

“No! I won’t. You’d have to kill me!”

You didn’t truly understand the weight of your words, let alone the fact that you wouldn’t be able to use your ability if they followed through with it. But Mori understood the severity of the meaning behind it.

You meant what you said, even if you didn’t fully understand it yourself. You were not going to be using your ability anymore.

Mori saw no use in having you there any longer, seeing you as nothing more than a liability. Another person to feed and keep alive. So you were sent back to the mainland.

They brought you back, kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to leave Akiko. You couldn’t. The thought of her being there all alone made you cry and you couldn’t believe that they would be so evil to separate you. But you had no choice, there was nothing you could do.

With your family gone, you were left with no one. You were sent to live with a family chosen by Mori, a connection he had through the mafia, in case you ever changed your mind and wanted to go back to work.

You hated living there, despite the fact that they were generally nice people. They lived a luxurious life, free of worry or care and it made you sick. You were here being taken care of while your sister was still in the middle of a battlefield, alone and miserable. You didn’t feel like you deserved it. Akiko was the one who worked harder than you. She should be here too.

You soon came to realize that speaking of the war was an unspoken rule. Anytime you would mention someone or something relating to what you’d experienced, you were shut down. Even after the war ended, when things went back to “normal”, you were forbidden from speaking about it.

Mori would come by occasionally, much to your horror. He still saw use in you, in your abilities. But you always refused. You wouldn’t work for him again, ever.

You would ask about Akiko every time you saw him. Had she come back? Was she okay? Was she alive? He never answered your questions. You knew it was to torture you in hopes of you agreeing to do what he asked.

It was three years after the war ended when a man you didn’t recognize showed up at the door. Your “parents” had been hesitant to let him in, wondering what the repercussions of doing so would be.

You weren’t going to get involved in the hushed conversation they were having. But then you heard him mention Akiko.

Before you knew it, you were skittering to the door, shoving the other two aside to see the man. His hair was silvery-gray, despite his young appearance and he had a soft yet stern expression on his face. The stoicism cracks when his grayish-blue eyes meet with yours, surprise flashing in them.

“You said something about Akiko,” you state, struggling to keep your composure. “Do you know where she is?” The man looks at you before glancing back at the couple standing aprehensivley behind you. You turn to look at them.

“Let me talk to him,” you request, though your tone sounds more like that of a demand. They give each other a look before shuffling away quietly, leaving the two of you alone.

You step outside next to the man, shutting the door behind you. You didn’t want them trying to listen in. They always did when Mori came to speak with you.

“My name is Yukichi Fukuzawa. I’m an old friend of Ougai Mori.”

You gasp softly and step away from him. Was this some new tactic Mori was trying? What torturous method to get you to come back with him was he trying now?

Fukuzawa’s face softens and he takes a couple steps back of his own.

“I understand your wariness, but I assure you, I’ve not come here to drag you away.”

“Then why are you here?” You ask, your voice snappier than intended, though he doesn't seem to mind.

“I had come here in hopes of finding Mori. I have something important to speak to him about. Do you know anything of his whereabouts?”

“I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything,” you say, your gaze dropping to the ground. The man doesn’t respond but studies you for a thoughtful moment.

“You’re Y/n Yosano, correct?” You look back up at him and give him a curt nod. He lets out a quiet sigh, lifts his fingers to the bridge of his nose and curses under his breath. “The other child he’d dragged into that warzone.”

“You mentioned my sister. Do you know if… If she’s…” You can’t bring yourself to finish the question, but he understands despite that.

“She’s in a psychiatric facility,” he answers carefully. “She’s been there for a few years, but she’s alive.”

You feel sick and relieved all at once. She’s alive. But she’s been locked up, all alone, for years. For years, and Mori never let you see her once. Never even told you if she ever left that battlefield or not.

Your throat tightens and your face grows hot as you begin to cry. She’s alive.

Fukuzawa doesn’t comment on your tears. He doesn’t give you a look of pity. He doesn’t ask you to stop. He just lets you cry as he continues.

“I have reason to believe that Mori wants your sister back in his care. I plan to prevent that from happening.”

You had only been speaking to this man for a few minutes but you found yourself already trusting him.

He was kind. It wasn’t the type of kindness Mori had shown you when he’d found you and your sister, one rooted in greed and ulterior motives. This was genuine kindness, grown out of experience and concern. You had learned to tell the difference.

And if he was going to help your sister, then you wanted to go with him.

“Take me with you,” you find yourself saying as if your mouth had decided before your mind had. Fukuzawa’s eyebrows raise, but his expression remains otherwise blank. “Please?”

His eyes drift to the window behind you and you turn to follow his gaze. You just barely catch the man and woman inside leaping away from the window, attempting, and failing, to not be caught in their snooping.

“He’s placed you with a nice family here,” Fukuzawa says. “Are you sure you want to leave?” You hold back an annoyed groan.

“They don’t actually care. They don’t like when I talk about it. They want to just pretend that it never happened.” Fukuzawa’s face droops, not needing you to explain what “it” is. “They only took me in because Mori ordered them to. They’d be relieved to see me gone.”

The man hums and closes his eyes. He’s silent for long enough that you worry he’s about to deny your request. Say you should stay in this home with the family that inhabits it, with the family that has stifled you for years, keeping you under their wing as they wait for the day you finally break and return to work with Mori.

But then Fukuzawa speaks.

“If that is what you desire, then fine. I’m sure your sister will be happy to see you.”

You wait impatiently in the halls of the hospital, waiting for Fukuzawa and Ranpo to return.

They had discovered that Mori indeed planned to retrieve Akiko from the facility. To drag her back into the hell she’d barely escaped from. But none of you were going to allow it.

Fukuzawa instructed you to stay here and wait for him or Ranpo to get you. That was over 30 minutes ago. You pace around anxiously in the room you’d decided to stay in, the chair in the corner having become increasingly more uncomfortable the longer you sat in it.

And then you hear it. Footsteps and the rhythmic squeak of a wheelchair. You walk to the door and stop when you hear your sister’s voice.

“Bring me back,” she mutters, her quiet voice carrying through the empty hall. You step out of the room, immediately finding Ranpo pushing a wheelchair with a girl sitting in it. Akiko.

Her hair was long, much longer than she’d ever preferred to keep it. Her skin was pale, evidence of how long it’s been since she’s seen the sun. She looked… sickly. But what she says next quickly drives away any thought you have on her appearance.

“I only make the lives of those around me less valuable.”

You grit your teeth and walk closer to the pair.

“Am I less valuable then?”

Akiko gasps softly at the sound of your voice. She slowly, hesitantly raises her head, her gaze eventually finding yours.

“Y/n…?”

“I’m here to bring you home,” you say, stepping closer until you’re standing in front of her. “Fukuzawa and Ranpo, they’re nice people. They want to help us.”

Akiko’s eyes drop back to her lap and it’s only then that you realize she hadn’t even smiled when she saw you.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

You feel something in your heart break as those words leave her lips. What had happened to her? All those times she kept you away from her work, what was going on? What had she seen? What had happened when you left?

You drop in front of her and wrap your arms around her, tears quickly forming and streaming down your face.

“Don’t say that!” You cry. Akiko remains limp in your arms, too weak to hug you back. Possibly too mentally, emotionally broken to even try.

“Please, Akiko. Don’t make me leave you again. I need my sister.” You pull away from her to look her in the eyes and her face twitches with the first sliver of emotion she’s shown since she’s seen you.

Ranpo comes to stand beside you, telling her the same words he and Fukuzawa had told you. That they don’t need you. That they don’t need your special ability. They just wanted you because you care. Because you don’t view life the way Mori does. That this “Armed Detective Agency” was a place where you could just be. Just exist.

Ranpo concludes his words by placing something into Akiko’s lap. Her golden butterfly hair clip from Shunzen. You both gasp in shock and Akiko picks up the piece carefully as you reach for the dog tag you still keep around your neck.

You try to picture the man, but your time and trauma-worn memories are so distorted and you’re sure that the image you conjure is accurate. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“We don’t want your special ability. It’s your kindness that means something,” Ranpo says gently.

Akiko sniffles and as you look into your sister’s eyes, vacant yet so full of pain as they flood with tears, you’re reminded of the words you heard muttered so often.

War is no place for a child.